


keep it off-court

by mouthbites



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Basketball, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-06-07 11:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6801799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouthbites/pseuds/mouthbites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaehyun joins the basketball team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time they meet is at try-outs. It’s a grey afternoon in March and the gymnasium is old and poorly heated. There’s already a faint scent of sweaty socks tinting the air. The squeaking of shoe soles and springing thuds of balls hitting the floor mix with the murmur of voices, cut through by the occasional laughter or shout. Jaehyun has been a freshman for two weeks and is just getting used to it. 

They’ve been divided into groups, and Jaehyun stands at the side with Youngho watching the first flock of newbies one by one trying to zigzag their way between the waiting upperclassmen, most of them over one-eighty, towards the ring. Jaehyun isn’t very nervous. Youngho’s been on the team for two years already, and if he says Jaehyun is good enough to make it Jaehyun’s inclined to believe him.

Next in line is a small, dainty-looking guy, with long black bangs and ears full of piercings. His t-shirt hangs big on his shoulders, and he’s absently rolling the ball between his fingers, held at waist height.

“Who’s that?” Jaehyun asks Youngho in English.

Youngho shrugs. “I dunno.”

Jaehyun scans the queue, noting the distinct dip at the foremost end of it. “Isn’t he kind of short for the basketball team?” he says, lowering his voice just in case.

Youngho snorts loudly and Jaehyun grins, looking back up just in time to catch the short guy throwing them what appears to be a sour glare. Then he sets off, dribbling the ball low, pushing it down and catching it with steady fingertips, easily snaking around the defenders and avoiding their long arms. He zips across the hall in a matter of seconds before jumping a good two feet in the air and sending the ball straight down through the ring.

Jaehyun realizes his mouth is open, and closes it. He nudges Youngho to do the same. The next guy in line, a skinny guy with nervous eyes, starts making his way towards the basket but loses the ball to the first guard and has to start over. Jaehyun doesn’t pay attention to him, though. He watches the guy with the piercings, who flips his hair out of his face, grins and tips his head at a senior complimenting him and then starts strolling back towards the other end of the hall.

When he passes the two of them, he meets Jaehyun’s eyes. 

“I’m Ten, by the way,” he says, in perfect English.

Jaehyun opens his mouth to say something, but can’t think of anything intelligent before the guy is already gone. Whatever it was, it probably wasn’t very intelligent anyway.

 

 

They both make the team.

 

 

The first time they actually talk is during break on the first practice. Jaehyun’s shirt is soaked and his tongue feels dry and sticky in his mouth. He’s downing the last of his water and when he straightens his head again Ten is coming towards him, rubbing the back of his neck with a towel. 

Jaehyun wipes his mouth with his hand and for unspecified reasons feels a wave of heat roll down his already flushed cheeks.

Ten stops a couple of steps in front of him. “You’re Jaehyun, right?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says.

Ten’s face spreads in a friendly grin. “Hi, I’m—“

“Ten, right,” Jaehyun cuts in. “I remember.”

Ten shifts the towel between his hands. The stretch of his lips twists subtly, without at all fading the brightness of his smile. “Right.” He brushes his sweaty bangs out of his face with his fingers. He has sharp eyes and a strong chin, but he’s still pretty for a guy. Up close like this, Jaehyun notes that he has at least four inches on him. “That shot you made was really good. You played in high school?” His Korean has an accent, one that Jaehyun can’t place.

“Yeah, I did,” Jaehyun says. “You?”

Ten shrugs. “On and off.”

“Your jump shot is awesome.”

Ten laughs. “It’s all about the calves, man,” he says, switching suddenly to English.

Jaehyun grins too, but finds it fading quickly. He licks his lips. “Hey, I’m sorry. For what I said. That was rude.”

A shrill whistle cuts through the air, and the team collectively groans and slowly starts moving back towards the middle of the hall. Ten lingers for a second, keeping the eye contact. His grin is still wide, eyes twinkling with something Jaehyun can’t put his finger on.

“Okay,” he says, turning away. “I forgive you.”


	2. Chapter 2

College basketball turns out to be tougher than high school basketball, but it’s a welcome change from sitting bent over a book or a laptop. Jaehyun’s feet are light when he skips up the stairs to his dorm room to change his backpack for his gym bag, and then heads towards the sports hall.

Turning the corner of a building he spots Youngho ahead and runs to catch up. Youngho groans at the sight of him. 

“Why do you freshmen always have so much energy?”

Jaehyun laughs, panting. Youngho winds an arm around his neck and drags him along.

When Coach has gathered the team he holds a minor lecture on _teamwork_ and _player dynamic_ and the importance of establishing a _connection_ with the guy you’re passing to and not just flinging the ball around like blind monkeys. “So today we’re practicing passing,” he rounds off, startling movement back into the crowd. “Pair up two and two and grab a ball.”

Jaehyun starts looking around, but both guys at his sides have turned away from him. Youngho has grabbed Hansol’s hand, bumping shoulders. Jaehyun turns around and spots Ten behind him, who spots Jaehyun too and lights up.

“Hey,” he says, stepping up to Jaehyun. “You and me?”

It sounds awkward, the way he says it, but Jaehyun stifles the snort. “Sure.”

Ten jogs off to fetch a ball and then, per instruction, they start circling. First one ball per pair, then one ball per two pairs, trying to hold it between you and your partner for as long as possible without losing it.

Ten is not just good at shooting. His hands are light but decisive, fingers steering the angle of ball like by nature, eyes constantly trained on Jaehyun’s through the blur of limbs and moving bodies and flying flashes of orange. He smiles every time Jaehyun catches a tricky ball, and laughs sheepishly whenever it flies past him or through his own fingers.

 

 

At the end of practice Coach calls for Youngho and another couple of the older guys to stay behind. Jaehyun’s almost dressed when they finally come into the changing room. 

“That took forever,” Youngho mutters. He wrings off his sweaty t-shirt. “I’ll be done in like, five.”

“Take your time,” Jaehyun says, catching a whiff from Youngho’s armpit. “I’ll wait outside.”

The cool evening air is crisp and fresh compared to the damp shower fumes and heavy mix of sweat and body spray in the locker room. Jaehyun sits down on a bench by the wall and takes out his phone. The door opens and closes and he nods goodnight to his leaving teammates. After ten rather than five minutes he hears Youngho’s voice. There is someone else with Youngho though, he is speaking English and his chatter is mingled with a high-pitched laugh that Jaehyun finds himself already recognizing.

Youngho comes down the short flight of stairs with Ten in tow, the two of them engaged in an apparently very entertaining discussion. Jaehyun stands up, pulling the strap of his bag over his head. Youngho stops in front of him and finishes telling his story to Ten who watches him attentively, giggles playing in his throat, neither of them seemingly registering Jaehyun’s existence.

“Sorry, you waited long?” Youngho says finally, patting Jaehyun’s shoulder, but immediately turns back to Ten again. “Hey, we’re gonna grab some dinner, wanna join?”

Ten looks from Youngho to Jaehyun, and back. “Sure,” he says. “I’m starving.”

“Cool,” Youngho says. He turns to Jaehyun. “Cool?”

“Uh,” Jaehyun says. “Sure. Cool.”

 

 

Ten never lived in the US, but apparently he went to international school in Bangkok. He chose Korea for his exchange semester on a whim, but liked it and decided to come back after graduation, taking a term to learn the language. 

He shrugs, picking among his fries. “I guess, by the end of the day I just wanted to get away from my family.”

“Why?” Youngho asks. “They want you to become a lawyer or something?”

Ten slowly chews down a fry. “Something like that.” He wipes his hands on his napkin. “So how come you guys know each other?”

“Same middle school back in Chicago,” Youngho explains. “This kid was such a massive nerd someone had to take care of him.” He drapes his arm around Jaehyun’s shoulders. “Then he had to follow me back to Korea and apply for the same college and everything because he can’t live without me. Don’t feed the strays, you know. You never get rid of ‘em.”

“Fuck off,” Jaehyun laughs, shrugging him off. "I moved back before you did."

Ten grins at them from across the table. 

“It’s nice,” he says, playing with his straw, slowly stirring the melting ice cubes around in what’s left of his coke. “Having someone like that. Someone you can talk to.”

 

 

The first game of the season comes in the middle of April. None of the first year members are actually going to play, but have been ordered to come along anyway and watch. _A learning opportunity,_ Coach calls it. It’s a sunny Saturday morning, but with a bite of chill in the air. Jaehyun, who didn’t go to bed when he should have, is still yawning on the way to the bus, squinting in the bright sunlight. He slips into a seat near the back, sinking down by the window, stuffs his backpack by his feet and starts digging around for his earphones in the front pocket.

The mood on the bus is good; the familiar mix of determination and growing bursts of playful adrenaline that makes everybody a bit extra rowdy and fired up. Jaehyun fondly drowns out the noise and movements around him as the bus starts to fill, slowly working on untangling the cord of his earphones with drowsy fingers. 

“Can I sit here?”

Jaehyun looks up, a beat late because it took him a second to register the sound and realize that it might be concerning him, to find Ten standing in the aisle, hand resting on the top of the seat in front, smiling down at him with the usual beaming grin. Jaehyun’s hands still around the cord.

“Yeah, sure.”

Ten, looking satisfied, plops down next to him and announces that it’s his first time going on a _road-trip_ in Korea. He says _road-trip_ in English, the articulated American touch feeling strangely like a pool of familiarity in the middle of his stiff Korean.

“You’ve never been outside the capital area?”

Ten shakes his head.

When they roll out on the highway Jaehyun finds his forgotten earphones on his lap, and slips them back down in the bag pocket.

Talking to Ten is easy.


	3. Chapter 3

After lunch the freshmen have some free time while the rest of the team warms up and gets pep-talked. The six of them nick a ball from the trunks of equipment and head back down the road to find the court they spotted from the bus when they came in.

There’s Sicheng, who doesn’t talk a lot, Seokmin who was on Jaehyun’s high school team, and Wonwoo and Mingyu who were in a team from another school. Jaehyun remembers playing against them a couple of times. Seokmin knows them better than he does.

After some five minutes they come out onto a large well-trimmed lawn, hosting a soccer field with netted goals at the far end, a small running track, and a partially fenced basketball court with painted flooring, the latter of which is still unoccupied. They walk over the fresh grass, not bothering with the gravel trail running around the area. Jaehyun drops his backpack on the row of benches sitting along the open side of the court and heads towards the center circle where Seokmin is already trying the bounce of the ball on the ground.

“Three on three?” 

“Cool,” Mingyu says. “What teams?”

Ten immediately comes up next to Sicheng and puts a hand on his shoulder, making a shy grin tug at his lips. “Overseas team,” Ten declares, looking expectantly at Jaehyun. Jaehyun shrugs and joins them.

“‘Kay, nerds,” Mingyu says. “Prepare to get crushed.”

Seokmin drives the ball hard into the ground, making it fly high into the air before turning and falling back down over them. Ten jumps valiantly after it, but Mingyu snatches it over his head with one long sweep of his arm. Ten gets back at him by intercepting his pass to Wonwoo seconds later.

Despite not playing seriously, goofing and joking around more than not, they soon start sweating in the midday April sun and one by one leave to drop their jackets and sweatshirts on the bench. Jaehyun pulls at the collar of his t-shirt, flapping it, trying to get some air in underneath. Sicheng tries to pass to him, which Jaehyun doesn’t realize until he catches movement in the corner of his eye and yelps, hunching down and bringing his arm up in protection, making the ball bounce off his elbow and roll away over the court. Sicheng cackles at him while he runs after it, stopping it with his foot. Jaehyun grins and chucks the ball after him.

After a while Jaehyun notices that a couple of girls have appeared on the benches, sipping coffee from paper cups, seemingly half chatting amongst themselves and half watching them play. They’re quite pretty. Their bags look heavy and Jaehyun remembers passing a library. Mingyu and Seokmin seem extra conscious of their presence, trying to show off but only ending up losing the ball more than usual.

Sicheng, after a pass from Ten, scores from the three-point line. Ten cheers and high-fives him. Mingyu, who happens to stand closest to the basket, catches the ball on the rebound, but he doesn’t keep going, instead pausing, taking a couple of steps forward towards the center, looking thoughtful. The others exchange glances and subtly draw closer, crowding loosely around him. Mingyu tries to spin the ball on the tip of his finger but fails horribly. He fumbles after it in the air for a second before it escapes him and bounces away in Jaehyun’s direction. Jaehyun picks it up and lets it drop a couple of times, stepping a bit closer.

“Maybe they’re into basketball players,” Mingyu says quietly, glancing towards the side of the court. “Someone should go talk to them.”

"Someone?" Ten asks.

"Maybe we could get their numbers."

Wonwoo laughs at him. "You get their numbers, then what? You really want a girlfriend two hours away?"

Mingyu shrugs. "Better than no girlfriend at all."

Seokmin chews on his lip. “Okay, you go.”

Mingyu stares at him. “Me?”

Ten starts to shift on his feet as they argue, shoulders pulling back and then slumping down. His head tips to the side and his gaze starts to wander. Finally he turns away from them, steps up to Jaehyun and slaps the ball from between his hands, taking off. Jaehyun startles, instinctively chasing after it. Ten laughs and dribbles away to the other side of the court. When he gets to the key he turns, knees bent, bouncing the ball low, eyes trained on Jaehyun. Jaehyun stays light on his feet, watching him, trying to catch any indication of movement.

Ten grins at him, keeping them locked, then suddenly dives left. Jaehyun follows just a split second later, throwing his arm out, but only manages to brush over Ten's chest and shoulder. Ten snakes behind his back, crosses the key before Jaehyun has even finished turning around after him and sets the ball with a short, high toss.

Jaehyun laughs. “Nice.”

Ten smiles, bending down to pick up the ball. “Thanks.”

 

 

There’s actually some people scattered over the bleachers in the gymnasium, though from the looks of it mainly friends and parents, retired uncles, some fangirls, and a bunch of high schoolers maybe hoping to qualify next year.

Sicheng skips ahead of them up the stairs. He stops at the second last row, behind the rest of the audience, looking back at them. Ten, ahead of Jaehyun, nods quickly at him. The six of them take a seat in the middle of the row, with Seokmin on Jaehyun’s other side. 

After a couple of minutes the opponent team comes out along the sideline, and then their own from the other side. There’s some lukewarm clapping. The coaches gather their teams for some of last words, the captains shake hands, and then the ten players take their positions on the court. Youngho is one of the first ones out. His face looks hard and concentrated.

The ball is tossed up, and they're off.

Seeing the team from this angle gives a whole new perspective, Jaehyun realizes. Coach was right - their pass-work is pretty bad, and the defense isn’t great either. They’re leaking balls like a sieve. 

The others seem to be making similar observations because they soon start commenting on the movements and players on the court - what they do well, when they fuck up, what could be better. Before long they’re engaged in pure strategy, recounting what Coach has been talking about and coming up with tweaks and improvements. 

Every time one of their teammates flunk a shot they groan collectively, and whenever someone lands a nice score they shoot to their feet and cheer, earning turned heads and strange looks from the rest of the audience.

Halfway through the second quarter Youngho receives a smooth pass, and, unguarded, makes for the ring. It’s an easy shot but the ball flies past the board, way off.

“Fuck,” Ten mutters under his breath. He’s sitting leaned forward, elbow on his crossed legs, biting on the tip of his thumb. When he realizes Jaehyun heard him he continues, still in English; “He had a clear shot!”

A couple of minutes later Coach calls for a time-out. He gathers the five players on the court, huddling in a circle. When the minute is up and they spread out again he gestures in Youngho’s direction. Youngho nods and makes his way towards the benches on the side, low-fiving the sophomore replacing him on the way. When he has wiped his face off with a towel he looks up towards the top of the bleachers, meeting Jaehyun’s gaze, and lifts his hands and shoulders in a shrug.

 

 

They end up losing with 48 to 73.

 

 

The atmosphere on the busride back is different from the morning. Coach holds a short, somber speech at the front, concluding that they were in a bad shape today, but have noted things to work on. Next time they’ll do better. He sits down, and the air loosens a bit, a low murmur of conversation rising. Jaehyun can hear snippets of English from Ten and Youngho behind him. He watches the buildings sailing by as they exit the city.

There is movement above him and he twists his head, looking up to find Ten standing, leaning his crossed arms over the top of the seat next to Jaehyun’s.

“Clearly they need us, right?” Ten says, grinning down at him. “We have to help them out next time.”

Jaehyun laughs quietly. They both ignore Youngho’s noise of protest from behind. “Yeah.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Man-to-man defense!” Coach calls out when the team has gathered around him at the start of next week’s first practice. “I know you guys know this, but let’s go over it again.”

He goes on for a good 20 minutes, bringing the seniors to the front for demonstrations and drawing on his little whiteboard. Paired with the lingering sting of Saturday’s defeat it’s effectively motivating, and before long the guys are getting restless, antsy to get going. Finally Coach senses the declining levels of attention and divides them into four groups of four and the gymnasium into two, ordering the freshmen to roll down the four baskets sitting winded up against the long walls of the hall.

Jaehyun ends up with Sicheng and Inseong, a senior, and Junhui, a sophomore. They’re first up against Hansol and Mingyu and two sophomores. They play short matches, scored not by how many points they take but by how many times they block opponent shots and retrieve the ball. Wonwoo, benched because of an injury, helps the assistant coach keep track of the score. Coach stands between the two smaller courts, circling slowly and watching them all like a hawk, once and again shouting encouragements or corrections. After two times ten minutes, they switch.

Ten grins at Jaehyun and Sicheng when he and his team walk over to their half of the court.

In the second half Jaehyun’s team rakes in a load of points keeping the others blocked for almost two whole minutes before stealing the ball back. Junhui sets off with it and within seconds everybody has moved to the other side, taking positions. Jaehyun is still free and is just about to raise his hand to get Junhui’s attention when Ten appears in front of him, arms stretched out, eyes intent on the ball.

Sicheng manages to shake off his defender and catches the pass instead. He tries to dribble to get some space and find a better position, but gets blocked immediately. He searches for Jaehyun who tries to move to create an opening, but Ten follows him as if he can physically sense where he is and where he is going. 

Suddenly Inseong appears out of nowhere from their right, his defender on his heels - Sicheng immediately spots the opportunity and chucks the ball into Inseong’s hands.

In the scuffle Ten instinctively takes a step back and accidentally steps on Jaehyun’s foot. He makes a noise and, in his hurry to get away, almost loses his balance. He wobbles backwards, his back bumping against Jaehyun’s chest. Jaehyun’s hand shoots up to his elbow to steady him. He gets a brief faceful of damp, shampoo-scented hair before Ten regains his balance and whips around.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, the English coming out seemingly without thought.

“Don't worry,” Jaehyun assures him. Basketball gets physical; it’s safe to say Jaehyun has had worse incidents. Usually you don’t bother apologizing unless you’ve accidentally sent someone flying or to the infirmary.

“Is your foot okay?” Ten asks, nodding down, grinning much too widely to look apologetic.

Jaehyun grins too. “It’ll live.”

 

 

Thursday’s practice offers a similar setup, but now with more yelling. It feels like they’re starting to get the hang of it though, and the spirits are good when the team piles into the dressing room at the end of the session.

Jaehyun sinks down on one of the benches and takes a long swig from his water bottle. Across from him Youngho pulls his bag out of his locker.

“You got any shampoo?” he asks Hansol beside him, who nods and starts digging in his own bag.

In the corner Ten is engaged in a conversation with Qian Kun, laughing and gesticulating. He has already taken off his shirt and is standing with it still in his left hand while waving the other one around, trying to think of the right word to describe something.

His back is lean, with faint contours of muscles showing through soft skin. The curve of his shoulder is smoothly drawn, travelling from the swell of his bicep up the side of his neck. The waist narrows towards the hips, split by the dip of his spine. His shoulder blade shifts under the skin with every movement of his arm, making thin shadows twist and layer over his back.

Jaehyun blinks and looks away. _What?_ He takes another sip of his water. 

“Aren’t you gonna shower?” Youngho asks. He's down to his boxers and socks, scratching at his armpit.

“Uh,” Jaehyun says. “Yeah.”

 

 

It’s Tuesday noon and Jaehyun’s sitting at the library when he gets a text from Youngho.

 _dude, lunch?_ it says.

Jaehyun checks with his stomach. Yes, definitely. _sure, when?_ he texts back.

It takes fifteen minutes for his phone to beep again. _we’re leaving now. humanities cafeteria. u coming?_

Jaehyun quickly types in _omw_ and tucks his books into his backpack.

The cafeteria is pretty crowded. Jaehyun tiptoes in the line but can’t find Youngho at first. Then he spots Ten in the corner, waving at him with his whole arm. Youngho is next to him, seemingly laughing at him. Jaehyun pays for his meal and makes his way over between the tables.

They’re sitting at a round table with Hansol and Hansol’s friend Yuta, who Jaehyun remembers is on the soccer team.

“We saved you a seat,” Ten tells Jaehyun when he reaches them, patting the chair beside him. Jaehyun sits down with his tray. Yuta gives him a sunny grin.

“Ten told me to text you,” Youngho informs Jaehyun as he starts eating.

Ten’s face immediately twitches to him, a hint of a frown between his brows. “It sounds weird when you say it like that,” he complains, voice rising a step in pitch. He looks at Jaehyun quickly, then returns to his food.

“Otherwise you wouldn’t have?” Jaehyun asks Youngho. “You dick.”

Soon the topic returns to the conversation Jaehyun interrupted. Jaehyun, at the moment feeling mostly concerned with filling his empty stomach, eats and listens, sometimes adding a comment or aiding in appropriate reactions. Ten also seems to follow the discussion attentively, eating slowly and not saying a lot. 

Halfway through the meal, he swallows his mouthful and leans towards Jaehyun. “What’s that?” he asks in a low voice. “ _Mohohan_?” The syllables come out slightly stiltedly, the _h_ -es emphasized.

“Oh,” Jaehyun says. He tries to think of the English word for it but can’t remember. “When you’re not sure of something,” he tries in Korean. “Like, when it’s unclear?” 

Ten looks confused.

“ _Ambiguous,_ ” he remembers finally.

“Aah,” Ten says, nodding. He straightens again and takes another bite, watching Hansol talk.

They stick around for a bit after everybody has finished eating, leaned back in their chairs and laughing at Youngho’s complains about one of his teachers. 

“You’ll be having him next year,” he tells Ten, sticking a finger in his face. “You’ll know my pain soon enough.”

Ten groans.

“What time is it?” Hansol asks.

Yuta looks at his phone. “We have class in... ten minutes.”

“Shit,” Youngho says without much fervor. “I better get going too.” He empties the last in his glass. “Ten, you coming?”

Ten looks at Jaehyun. “You done?”

Jaehyun nods. “Yeah.” He stands up and hangs his bag over his shoulder. 

“Hang on,” Ten says. “It’s fucking warm today,” he mutters, taking the hoodie that had been hanging over the back of his chair and starts stuffing it into his bag. Jaehyun waits while the others go ahead.

“You’d think you’d be used to hot weather,” Jaehyun teases him, switching to English, while they walk to leave their trays. 

Ten snorts. “It’s kinda the opposite. I always expect it to be cold here so I wear too much. Classic southerner thing, I guess. The first winter I put on, like, triple layers of pants.”

Jaehyun laughs.

“Is it cold in Chicago?” Ten asks.

“Not really.”

Hansol and Yuta are already gone when they come out in the hallway, but Youngho’s waiting at the intersection, looking at something on his phone. He looks up when he hears their voices.

“I’m going this way,” Jaehyun says, pointing with his thumb.

“Right,” Ten says.

“Later,” Youngho says, lifting a hand before he turns away.

Ten lingers for a second. “See you tonight, then?” he says, smiling.

“Oh,” Jaehyun says. He finds a smile on his own face as well, as if it crawled up there on its own. “Yeah.”


	5. Chapter 5

Jaehyun sighs lightly when he pushes through the locker room door and out into the fresh, lukewarm May evening. His muscles feel soft and worn but exhaustion hasn’t crept up on him yet, still floating on the high of exercise. 

The parking lot and street outside the gymnasium are almost empty. Jaehyun’s on clean-up duty this week and was one of the last out of the showers. He skips down the steps and crosses between the couple of cars waiting for their owners. Coming out on the road, he finds a familiar figure walking slowly ahead of him, head bent down. Jaehyun speeds into a jog, his bag bouncing inelegantly against his hip.

Ten whips around when he hears the steps behind him, a grin immediately spreading on his face. 

“Hey,” he says, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“Hey,” Jaehyun answers, trying not to sound out of breath, falling in step next to him. “You heading back to the dorms?”

Ten nods. 

“Today was tough,” Jaehyun says. “I thought he’d never let us go.”

Ten makes a face. “Yeah, I’m gonna be sore tomorrow.”

“So,” Jaehyun says. “Are you nervous?”

The first game on home turf is on Saturday, and all grades are to play. Coach has drilled them all, not dropping any hints as to who’s gonna be on the roster.

Ten looks down, kicking at something on the ground. “Maybe a little.” He glances at Jaehyun. “You?”

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun admits.

“This team,” Ten starts, suddenly switching to English. “Are they good?”

Talking to Ten means constant code-switching - going with whatever fits and feels best at the moment, mixing in words and expressions, sometimes changing language in the middle of a sentence. It’s dynamic and engaging, but requires you to be alert and read the other person well - not a lot unlike basketball.

Ten usually starts out in Korean, probably out of habit, but after a minute or two sometimes seems to freeze for a second and then slides into English instead, as if remembering that with Jaehyun he has a choice. Jaehyun has started to realize that you can tell what mood he’s in based on what he chooses to speak - when he’s tired, or when he gets excited, he prefers English.

“I want to speak Korean, though,” he said once, when it was just him and Jaehyun and Youngho. “I need to practice. And…” He paused and shrugged. “It’s easier with you guys. I can ask if there’s something I don’t know, and stuff like that. Plus, I don’t have to keep it up when my brain feels fried.” 

His Korean is by no means bad, but it does change him a bit - stiffening him, slowing him. In English, he seems more relaxed, doesn’t seem to have to think so much, even if it’s not his native tongue. Jaehyun finds that he enjoys it too, having a reason to speak it again. Some words and expressions sound better in English, some topics easier to discuss.

He also finds himself wondering what Ten is like speaking Thai, how his mother tongue shapes him. But he has a feeling he would have to learn it himself to really know.

When they get to the intersection between the main and international dorm buildings Ten turns to him.

“Hey, you wanna come up? I wanna show you something.”

Jaehyun nods. “Sure.”

They cross the first floor lobby and get in the elevator, riding up to the 7th floor. Ten leads him down the corridor, past a communal kitchen with some couches, around a corner, stopping at a door with a sign saying 94. He sweeps the keycard and enters first, kicking off his shoes and dropping his bag on the floor.

“Make yourself at home,” he tells Jaehyun over his shoulder when Jaehyun closes the door behind them. Ten stands at the opposite side of the room, by the window, leaned on one hand on his desk.

The rooms in the international dorms turn out to look a lot like Jaehyun’s own - a bed, a desk, a closet, some shelves and a small bathroom by the door - but they’re a bit bigger. The stale palette of off-white and pale wood running through the entire complex has been broken up with patterned drapes (Jaehyun doesn’t know any other guy who has bothered to change the curtains) and big posters on the walls. It’s comfortably messy - not chaotic, but not sterile either, the way some dorm rooms tend to be. Clutter covers the shelves between little boxes and stacks of books; pictures in colorful frames, trinkets and various useful things. Some clothes lie thrown over the foot of the bed, half-heartedly made with dark blue sheets.

It’s a space where someone lives, and has made their own. A home.

“Do you guys have your own showers?” Jaehyun asks, too well-raised to simply open the door and check.

“Nah, they’re down the hall.”

Ten sinks down on the floor with crossed legs, putting his laptop in front of him. He clicks along the timeline of a video, stopping a few seconds here and there before skipping forward. Jaehyun puts his bag by his shoes and sits down next to him. 

“This is what I was talking about the other day,” Ten says and hits play. It’s a basketball game between two asian teams. The excited voices of two thai commentators stream out of the small laptop speakers. Jaehyun leans forward, studying the players.

“This team’s known for their dynamic,” Ten says, pointing to the players in green uniforms. “Watch how they move around each other. They barely look before passing. It’s like they always know where they have each other.”

Jaehyun nods. It’s a less aggressive technique than a lot of other team’s prefer, but it seems to have it’s strengths. It’s quick, fluid - almost like dancing.

Ten skips ahead to another spot. Some of the players have been exchanged, but the dynamic is the same. Jaehyun watches intently, trying to trace the collective pattern of movement, but finds himself following one of the players with his eyes. The guy is thin and short, everybody else towering over him, but he jumps as if he’s got springs in his heels.

“Damn,” Jaehyun says under his breath. “Number fifteen.”

Ten searches the screen for a moment, then grins. “Yeah. He was my favorite player back in high school. Wanted to be just like him.”

“I wish I could jump like that,” Jaehyun says. He looks at Ten. “How do you do it?”

“Me?” Ten laughs, too obviously flattered to sound humble. He shrugs. “Squats, heel lifts, the usual.” He looks down, finger tracing the edge of the keyboard. “But, you know... You have to visualize it. You have to want it. You have to see the ring and see yourself up there.”

Jaehyun looks at him, finds his eyes not wanting to leave. For a second, Ten seems somewhere else. His face smooth, grin small, eyes shining. Then he looks up, and is back. 

“We could train together sometime, if you want. I could teach you some tricks.”

“Yes,” Jaehyun says. He holds up his hand, fingers straight. “Let’s.” Ten grins and smacks his palm. Their hands lock for a second.

Jaehyun turns back to the screen, rewinding a bit to rewatch. Ten leans back on his hands.

“I was thinking of just making ramen for dinner,” he says after a couple of minutes. “You want some?”

“What’ve you got?”

Ten gets up and starts digging around in a box on top of his drawers. “Seafood, spicy chicken, beef…” he lists absently. “Kimchi.”

“Beef,” Jaehyun says.

Ten looks at the box, then at Jaehyun, then back to the box. “There’s just one left…”

Jaehyun laughs. “Okay. I’ll take chicken.”

 

 

Saturday starts with some light exercises and a gameplay walkthrough. Jaehyun tags along with Youngho, Hansol and Kun for lunch, coming back with plenty of time to warm up. The locker room is still empty, but a couple of players from the other team have changed and started jogging around the gymnasium.

A minute later the door opens and Sicheng comes in with Ten in tow.

“Oh. Hey.”

“Hey. Have you guys eaten?”

“Yeah.”

There’s something a little ceremonial about putting on the uniforms - steel grey with orange accents for home games - for the first time. Jaehyun slips the sleeveless top over his head and tries not to feel proud. He hasn’t even done anything yet.

Ten comes out of the supply closet with a folded uniform in his arms and a not very well-concealed pout on his face.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Youngho asks him, looking up from his shoes.

“I can’t believe number ten is taken,” Ten says, mirroring the English. He drops the clothes next to his backpack on the bench and starts to untie his sneakers.

Youngho and Jaehyun laugh, drawing confused looks from the other three. Number 10 belongs to Choi Minho, the team captain. 

“Maybe he’ll trade with you,” Jaehyun suggests. “Have you asked him?”

“Yeah, he said no. Apparently he’s had it since freshman year and it’s his _lucky number_ or something.” Ten rolls his eyes and lifts the hem of his shirt to pull it off. Jaehyun chooses that time to duck down and start tying his shoes. He carefully pulls at the laces to find the right pressure over his feet and makes a very proper double knot, and when he’s done Ten is fully dressed in baggy shorts and long top with 27 printed on his back and chest in big, orange-trimmed font.

His bad mood is already gone, replaced with a kind of jittery excitement.

“Come on,” he urges them, bouncing on his feet by the door.

“Relax,” Youngho groans, holding his back like an old man. “I’m still digesting.”

They start with some stretching and dribbling, casting glances at the opponent team on the other half of the court while the rest of their teammates join them.

With some twenty minutes left before the game starts a small audience has trickled in and spread itself over the bleachers. Jaehyun spots Yuta sitting on the second row with a couple of friends. Wonwoo, still recovering, sits at the front, right behind their bench, with Junhui who came down with a cold a couple of days ago.

Coach rounds up his active players and herds them back into the locker room.

“Remember what we’ve talked about,” he tells them. “And keep your heads cold.”

Now the mood has sharpened. Suddenly, like Ten, Jaehyun can’t stand still. His legs tingle with rushing blood, aching to get going, but he’s not among the first five out. When they have marched back out again to scattered clapping and whistles, he sits down next to Kun on the bench and tries to quell his nerves.

Come half-time, they’re under by fifteen points. 

“They’re strong, but we can catch up,” Coach urges them, gathered in a tight ring. He draws his hawk gaze over the non-sweaty portions of it, pausing a couple of times. “Jaehyun, Sanghoon,” he says. “Get ready.”

With ten minutes left Coach calls his last time-out. He sends Jaehyun out with a pat on the shoulder and a “good job”, and Jaehyun jogs back to the bench and sinks down in the empty spot next to Ten, who played most of the first half.

“Nice shots,” Ten compliments him, giving him a smile and a towel. “We’re gaining on them.”

“Thanks,” Jaehyun says, wiping off his face. “We’re still getting crushed though.”

Ten snorts. “Yeah.”

By end signal they’ve managed to reduce the difference to 8 points. 

“Better than last time,” Ten says with a grin that looks more like a grimace.

 

 

Later, after post-game bulgogi and a couple of beers, when everybody’s sitting around chatting, Jaehyun happens to meet Ten’s gaze, diagonally across the table. Ten holds it, and smiles at him - a soft, light smile, slowly growing, never breaking. There is a small sting, warm and gentle, in Jaehyun’s stomach.

_What?_


	6. Chapter 6

After warm-ups, Coach gathers them all in the middle of the hall.

"Okay guys, let's start with some ball drills. Partner up, two and two."

Jaehyun automatically turns to Ten at his side, who has turned to Jaehyun as well. He brings up his hand and Ten meets it from below, holding for a second, grinning.

 

 

Around eleven thirty there is knocking on Jaehyun's door - two slow ones, two quick ones, and then two slow ones again, in a rhythm. Jaehyun drags himself up from his desk chair and across the small space of his room.

Youngho looks like he just woke up, even though he texted Jaehyun over an hour ago. His long bangs are inelegantly fanned out over his face and he's got a paper cup of coffee in one hand. Jaehyun doesn't point out the fact that they said eleven - this report is killing him and Youngho, having taken the same course last year, has been kind enough to devote a couple of hours of his Saturday to helping him.

"Morning," Youngho mumbles and shuffles inside, dropping a couple of books on Jaehyun's bed.

His morning (?) state doesn't change the fact that Youngho's been a college student for two years longer than Jaehyun. He downs his coffee, cracks his knuckles, skims through the meager, disorganized contents of Jaehyun's document and quickly breaks down what to focus on, who to cite and how to format. Then he settles on Jaehyun's bed, snapping every time Jaehyun's fingers still on the keyboard.

"Don't stop. Just get it out. You edit later."

Jaehyun only hates him a little bit.

An hour later he has gotten over the worst humps and churned most of the thing out. Youngho has calmed, as if trusting him to behave, and is doing some reading of his own. Jaehyun’s scanning through one of his textbooks trying to find a specific passage to quote when Youngho says, out of the blue; 

“Ten’s gay, by the way.”

Jaehyun flips around. “What?”

"Yeah." Youngho glances up. “Are you surprised?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “The possibility has crossed my mind,” he admits. “But how do you know?”

“He told me,” Youngho says simply.

“And how does he feel about you going around telling people?”

“He didn’t tell me not to.”

Jaehyun frowns at him. “Are you kidding?”

Youngho groans. “Relax, I’m not advertising it, okay?” He shifts and stretches one leg out, leaning back against the wall. “I’m only telling you. I figured it would be okay since… you know…”

“What?” Jaehyun asks, feeling a thin wave of cold sweat on the back of his neck.

Youngho gives him a weird look. “Since you’re bisexual?”

“Oh,” Jaehyun says. “Right.”

Youngho still looks at him with a concerned wrinkle between his brows. "You still are, right?"

"Uh," Jaehyun says. An image of Ten in nothing but a towel around his waist suddenly pops uninvited into his head. He pushes it back to where it came from.

Youngho puts his book to the side. “Dude, you’ve been having crushes on guys since you were twelve. Don’t tell me you suddenly have issues about this stuff?”

Jaehyun plays with his pen, tapping it against the scribbled page of his notebook. “No,” he says. “Not really.”

When he looks at Youngho again he finds that Youngho has put on his big bro face. It doesn’t suit him. Jaehyun stifles a grimace.

“You know,” Youngho starts. “I know I’m not the best person to talk to, like I know I could never really get it and stuff, but if you ever…”

“I’m fine!” Jaehyun cuts him off, his voice rising a notch. “Yes, I like dudes, I’m okay with that.”

Youngho raises both hands in front of him, lowering his head.

Jaehyun flips a couple of pages, not seeing the text. “So...” he starts. “Did you tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

“About me.”

“No,” Youngho says. “Should I have?”

Jaehyun shrugs.

“Do you want me to tell him?”

Jaehyun thinks about it for a second. “Yeah,” he says. “Why not.”

“Okay,” Youngho says. He leans down towards his backpack lying on the floor beneath the bed and grabs his phone from the outer pocket.

“What are you doing?”

Youngho looks at him, one eyebrow raised. “I’ll text him.”

“Just like that?”

“Why not?” Youngho says and starts tapping at the screen.

Jaehyun twists around in his chair. “You can’t do it like that! It’s embarrassing.”

Youngho laughs. “Why do you care so much?”

Jaehyun shoots up and snatches the phone from his hands. “ _Jaehyun wants me to tell you that--_ No.” He holds in backspace and then exits the window. “I’ll do it myself.”

Youngho shrugs. “Fine.”

 

 

Jaehyun wipes away the sweat gathering in his eyebrows with the back of his hand and pulls in air through his mouth. It's a warm Sunday afternoon, bordering on hot, and Ten has run him through more or less a full-body workout.

"It's about channeling force through your whole body, from your heels to the tips of your fingers," he explained, words quick and excited the way only English allows him.

They're on the basketball court at the small sports area behind the dorms. On the other side of the tall fence a handful of girls are playing tennis, the loud thuds of racquet hitting ball softened by the bushes and small trees scattered over the premises. Every now and then some people pass on the paved walk-way, but so far they've had the court to themselves.

Jaehyun looks up at the ring towering above him, pressing his fingers into the pimpled skin of the ball. He bends his knees, and shoots up, letting the movement travel upwards, arms extending. The jump is slow and pathetically unexplosive. The muscles all along his legs strain and protest, and his feet feel like they're made of solid led. The ball brushes against the net, sailing under the ring, and Jaehyun lands heavily again with an old-man grunt.

He barely notices the face he makes, lips tight and pulled down, as he glares at the ball bouncing away over the tarmac. Ten chuckles at him, scooping it up before it escapes.

"Improving your jump height takes time," he says, bouncing the ball as he comes closer. "Your muscles are tired now. This stuff wears them out quickly."

"No shit," Jaehyun mumbles, stumbling over to the side of the court. He flops down on the ground and grabs his water bottle. Ten follows him, sinking down next to him and lying back in the grass.

"So how often are you supposed to do this?"

Ten shrugs. "A couple of times a week. Depends on how serious you are."

Jaehyun doesn't say anything, just takes another drink. Suddenly, Ten laughs.

"We don't have to do this again if you don't want to."

Jaehyun looks down at him. "Ah, no," he says sheepishly. "It was fun. I just..." He caps the bottle and falls back, stretching out next to Ten with a sigh. "I'm just not sure if I'll be able to walk tomorrow."

Ten's laughter is light and trickling, and it makes Jaehyun grin. His breathing is returning to normal and his sweat is starting to dry in the light breeze. He tilts his head, just a little bit, glancing at his friend. Ten is looking up at the sky, mouth still split in that usual easy smile. The sun shines on his dark hair, giving it warm, brown highlights.

Jaehyun has spent the week since the study session with Youngho trying to Tell Ten.

It really shouldn't be a big deal. Ten should be one of the easiest people to tell, but fact remains that Jaehyun hasn't told a lot of people in his life. With the people who know, like Youngho, it has always happened very naturally. He's not used to talking about it.

Every time they've been alone they have either been interrupted or Jaehyun hasn't known how to bring it up, and no matter how he tries to word it it always sounds so awkward in his head. How to do it without it turning into a massive coming-out moment? _Oh, by the way--_

He glances over at the tennis court and clears his throat. English or Korean?

Ten has turned his head to look at him, eyebrows raised.

"Uhm," Jaehyun says quietly.

When nothing more comes, Ten snorts. "What?"

Jaehyun stares up into a cloud. He licks his lips. "You... You wanna go get some ice cream?"

He doesn't need to look at Ten to know the face he's making - light frown, puzzled grin. Thankfully, Ten soon sits up.

"Okay."

 

 

 

Jaehyun sits on the edge of a bench by the road coming from the dorms, bouncing his heel over the ground. Several of his teammates have already passed him, but he waved them off. He checks the time again. It looks good to get there early, but he just needs a couple of minutes to change.

Finally Youngho appears, strolling towards him down the road, training bag slung over his chest. Jaehyun shoots up, waiting. That’s when Youngho sees him, and gives an upwards nod in greeting. 

"Fine,” Jaehyun hisses when Youngho reaches him, falling in by his side.

Youngho looks at him with a confused wrinkle between his brows. "Thank you?"

"I mean," Jaehyun continues patiently. "Could you tell him? Ten?"

"Oh," Youngho says. "Okay."

They walk on in silence. Jaehyun chews on his bottom lip. "Could you, like, be smooth about it, though?" he adds.

Youngho sniffs. "I'm always smooth."

"I'm serious, hyung."

Youngho looks at him, more softly and searching than Jaehyun is used to. Then he brings up a hand and ruffles through Jaehyun’s hair. "Don't worry. I've got this."

 

 

 

It's about an hour after practice ended and Jaehyun is back in his room when his phone vibrates, giving a couple of stuttered beeps. His heart makes a weird little skip when he sees that it's from Ten.

_dude!!!_

_johnny told me_

_cool!!!_

His phone beeps again.

_we have to go out n pick up guys tgthr smtime ;)_


End file.
